


a moral question: are cigarettes okay to romanticize?

by Mushusims



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-13
Updated: 2019-10-13
Packaged: 2020-12-14 18:36:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21020393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mushusims/pseuds/Mushusims
Summary: uhhhhhhhh maria and isobel are cute together, they have a cute scene in highschool, maria was in love with rosa.





	a moral question: are cigarettes okay to romanticize?

She'd had this feeling before. In highschool, when the cheerleaders took the middle of the field at any home game, Isobel’s button up-blouse would feel too tight around her throat. During student council meetings Isobel would stare at the girl across from her, her name she didn’t even remember, and imagine what her lips felt like. 

She’d always written it off as, “everyone’s a little gay!” She’d never dated women, never acted on it because she figured her interest would go away as soon as she tried and to her there was no use breaking some poor girl’s heart to be Isobel’s experiment. But then college happened, and drunk parties happened, and Isobel experimented. A lot. 

There were plenty of women in college. Women Isobel would never speak about again, one night stands she would forget the name of, and Isobel learned that she was, without a doubt, definitely not straight. Of course she did like men, as her marriage would later prove, but she preferred everything women had to offer. She felt more comfortable around them, loved the way they walked or looked or thought. Isobel would never tell anyone, not even Max or Michael or god-forbid their parents, but she would think back to her college days on nights when her bed felt too empty. 

Maria was the polar opposite of Isobel. Openly bisexual, accepted by her mother and the community, and much livelier. Maria was happy, and fierce and strong, and loved the world around her. She’d never struggled with being queer, or at least, she’d never tell the world she had. When she was 13, Max Evans joked about kissing her after class and she had winked at Liz in response; that’s how she came out to the town.

But Maria had never dated anyone in Roswell. She’d come close, once; had a crush on Rosa Ortecho. But then Rosa died, and Maria locked herself up. Her mother noticed when she was ‘all-there’, knew why her daughter hadn’t dated anyone, but on her mother’s bad days she would ask why Maria, “hadn’t spoken to that sweet girl Rosa in awhile. Did Rosa not like you back?” Maria would respond with something similar to, “Oh she’ll come over tomorrow,” or “She was just here a few days ago, Mom.” Maria was trying to save herself from telling her mother about Rosa’s death. There were moments where she would lie to her mother, and feel like  _ maybe she wasn’t lying after all. _ Maybe Rosa was there, in Crashdown, dancing with Liz again. Those were the days she daydreamed about what Rosa’s face would look like grown up. 

The first time Isobel Evans realized she was attracted to women was because Maria Deluca spoke to her in the 10th grade. Maria was in the bathroom, smoking a cigarette and crying. Isobel stepped into the bathroom, and immediately curled her nose at the scent of the cigarette. They shared a cautious glance, Isobel fidgeted with the hem of her shirt while Maria watched. Isobel noticed marks on Maria’s face where mascara had trickled down, and could hear the sniffing as Maria breathed. She’d been crying. 

Isobel was by no means quiet or shy. She’d been elected student body president the last two years in a row, and considered herself popular. She was not at all afraid to lead a group project or talk in front of the entire school for a speech. She was, by her own words however, petrified of human emotion. Especially the emotions of others. She sat frozen for a bit, not knowing how to help Maria but not wanting to leave her upset in the dingy bathroom.

So Isobel did the only thing that came to mind. She asked Maria if she could have a cigarette. 

“What?” Maria questioned, obviously confused. 

“Can I have a cigarette. I’ll pay you for it if you want.” Isobel began to move towards her, setting her bag on the ground next to the window. This was reckless, and Isobel knew that she would get in trouble if they were caught. She knew the risks of cigarettes. She knew this wasn’t something she was supposed to be doing, and looking at Maria’s lips wrapped tightly around the end of a cigarette, her lipstick staining the paper, Isobel felt her heart begin to race with anticipation. This was exactly the kind of thing she shouldn’t do, which is why her fingertips rested there on the cool windowsill, her eyes searching Maria’s for the right answer. 

“Sure,” Maria offered Isobel her own cigarette, her lipstick left a perfect red circle around the end. Isobel grabbed the cigarette with two fingers, took it gently between her teeth, and sucked as hard as she could, her lungs inhaling with smoke. Maria watched, silently, but began laughing as soon as Isobel began coughing. Maria took the cigarette back and Isobel hunched over, her lungs burning. Maria noticed something was wrong, and quickly snuffed her cigarette out on the tile of the wall. She grasped Isobel’s elbows and led her to a stall, where Isobel’s lunch guided itself out of her body. Maria held her hair back, and ran her fingers over the back of Isobel’s neck. She whispered soothing words into the air around them, and Isobel noticed just how good Maria was at taking care of people. Almost like an instinct. When Isobel’s body had stopped shaking, and her lungs felt stable, they both stood up. Isobel rinsed her mouth out in the sink, and Maria watched her from the stall door, curiously but seriously, trying to ensure Isobel was really okay. They made eye contact through the mirror, Maria’s lined eyes showing such concern that Isobel quickly glanced away. People didn’t look at  _ her _ that way. Maria stood still as Isobel grabbed her bag and walked out of the bathroom, stood still until the bell rang. Her lips burned, not because of the lingering smoke, but because of the very thing that had never touched them. Isobel’s lips. From then on out, when they saw each other, they were cautious. They didn’t make eye contact, and they avoided speaking to each other. 

10 years later, and Isobel had never forgot the taste of a cigarette. She’d never had another one, of course, because they didn’t seem interesting unless covered with Maria’s lipstick. Isobel never found that shade, but she’d also never had the courage to ask Maria about it. It had been 10 years, and Isobel still couldn’t forget the way Maria’s fingers felt on her neck. 10 years, and Isobel still had dreams with Maria’s far-away voice, telling her everything was going to be alright. 

Isobel walked into the diner, only hoping to get some fries for the drive home. It was her ordinary day, work out for three hours as hard as she could push herself and then wash all of her hard work down with a shake and fries from Crashdown. It was a weekday, though, so the diner was nearly empty. Nearly empty except for, of course, Maria. 

Isobel had stayed far away from her since finding out about Michael. She didn’t want anything to do with it; she didn’t want to hurt Michael. So, she ignored how much she wanted to flirt with Maria, how much she wanted to walk into the bar and take Maria home, how much she dreamed of Maria’s voice. She ignored how jealous she was of Michael, because he had Alex and Kyle and still he was stingy. Greedy. 

But Maria was directly in front of Isobel, wearing that same shade of red lipstick from 10 years ago, and looking her in the eyes; daring her to sit down. How could Isobel ignore her now?


End file.
